


Silver, Syrup & Sea Salt

by ArgentAconit



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, After Colorado, F/M, Fluff, Not really part of any particular episode, Waffles, dukes cardigan, maple syrup, mentions of Nathan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 23:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16274627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentAconit/pseuds/ArgentAconit
Summary: Duke was easy enough to find, really. Any time he made his signature waffles it was like he tucked them into the corners of her apartment and let their sweet, savory scent wake her. She spied him downstairs at the Gull, listening to that melodic radio music he liked, “Reggae,” he had said one day with his humored smirk, head ducked down to make him seem small and unassuming, “It’s Reggae, Audrey. Doesn’t it feel like the sea?” She almost wanted to reach out and finally follow those taunting streaks of silver again when he looked like that. She wished she had.





	Silver, Syrup & Sea Salt

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any inconsistencies in style or anything like that. Half asleep as I post this, but I've been having a little writer's block for the last few weeks and this just happened to pop up a couple of hours ago. I hope you're able to enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Edit:: About twelve hours later I went through and fixed some consistency errors I saw. Added about 400 words, haha.

Silver really was a good look on him. Whether it be the thin, soft strands of his waved hair as it teased you with the thought of following them from the edges of his temples with your fingers, or the eerie way his eyes would shift silver whenever he touched trouble blood… All she could think about was how beautiful it was on him. And now? All she could see whenever she looked at him was this halo of soft, brilliant light and remember the way his lips had felt against her own as they sat on the edge of a too hard bed in a cheap motel in Colorado. She couldn’t bring herself to be afraid of him when he went silver-eyed, though she still gave him space so he wouldn’t feel like he was a threat to someone nearby.

 

It felt like she was betraying Nathan with how she felt about Duke. Like it was wrong of her to love more than one man. But as the days passed it felt more and more like it was the right thing to love the reformed sea bandit as her so-called ‘eternal love of Nathan’ faded into the background. He felt like home. He let her choose her fate and fought for her choices even if he didn't agree. He protected her so much, and he told her the truth when she asked for it. He was warm and encompassing in a way that Nathan just... wasn’t.

 

Nathan who had so much hate left inside of him, who wanted to wrap around the things he loved and choke them like the roots that had caged them into a barn so many months ago. Duke, on the other hand, wanted to make up with Nathan after those school years of torment, Duke wanted to  _grow_  and  _protect_ , but Nathan just wanted to possess. She could see that now. She hated that she could see it. She knew Nathan could be so much more but the wide-eyed way he looked at everything lately just unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

 

Audrey knew that even though Duke often times did some questionable work, he lived his life for the day and he enjoyed every moment of it; even the heartache and confusion and anger. He prospered from it. She wanted that. She wanted it so _badly_!

 

After months and months of questioning who she really was had gone by, she wished now that she could have been making new memories just for herself. She could have been so much happier, and despite how few days she had left she wanted to try and live for those last days now instead of feeling bitter for all the time she had lost. She wanted to make memories with the people who were there with her  _now_ , and worry about the barn, and her son, and his wife later. She wanted to be Audrey Parker, she wanted to be loved and in love and she wanted to save people from their troubles. She wanted to help while she still had the chance. And right now, Duke could keep her anchored in the sea of troubles that was Haven.

 

Duke was easy enough to find, really. Any time he made his signature waffles it was like he tucked them into the corners of her apartment and let their sweet, savory scent wake her like one of the most pleasant alarm clocks she could have ever dreamt up. She spied him downstairs at the Gull, listening to that melodic radio music he liked,  _“Reggae,”_  he had said one day with his humored smirk, head ducked down to make him seem small and unassuming,  _“It’s Reggae, Audrey. Doesn’t it feel like the sea?”_ She almost wanted to reach out and finally follow those taunting streaks of silver again when he looked like that- when he looked at her like that. She wished she had.

 

Now, Audrey just crossed her arms in front of herself and pulled the knitted throw blanket she had borrowed from the back of the couch tighter around her body. It did little good to block against the biting chill of the salty air that plagued Maine through the mornings, but at least it did more than her camisole and worn out sweatpants. She smiled crookedly as she watched him sway and bounce on his heels to the music, bobbing his fork to the beat when he recognized a pattern.

 

He was right in his element here; wearing one of his soft and warm cardigans that she knew would swallow her whole if he ever let her borrow it. His signature pair of tan work pants fit him like a glove like they always had, and he had on those dark boots he always wore, laced up tight around his feet. It painted a different picture than the suave, ready-to-run image he tried to present when they first met on the Cape Rouge. The boots, in particular, reminded her of when he stripped on the boat deck when they were kidnapped out to sea. She turned her chin down into her chest and laughed quietly to herself as she remembered those emerald green briefs that had boldly accented them. “And what has you in such a good mood today?”

 

She looked up and caught him looking at her over his shoulder, dark brown eyes smiling at her as he twirled his handy fork between his nimble fingers. Her smile stretched a little further as she pushed off of the door frame to join him behind the bar, “Good memories. What are you doing here, Duke? I thought you were supposed to meet up with one of your buddies to talk about stock, not waking me up with the smell of waffles.”

 

He hummed in mock thought and raised his eyebrows as he poured out another golden puddle of batter on his iron and closed the top down on it. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?” He asked back. Audrey found herself shacking up on the bar, kicking her bare feet slowly in time with the lazy rhythm filling the air as she watched him flip a finished, fluffy disk onto an awaiting stack. “They got held up, the waves are a little unpredictable today.”

 

“Well, I have to make sure my favorites aren’t doing anything dangerous, don’t I?” She teased softly, voice muffled behind her hand as she tried to tame a jaw-popping yawn that brought moisture to her eyes. Duke turned to her and brandished the plate with a flourish and a small bow, not moving from his stance until her two smaller hands encircled the rim of the dish curiously, “What’s this for?”

 

“I’ll have to keep in mind that I’m one of your favorites. Maybe use that as an excuse the next time I get one of those parking tickets!” A smile played on his lips as he looked up from the waterfall of maple syrup he drizzled over her plate, light and aromatic. He didn't tell her why he was making her breakfast. She already knew why, and he wasn't the type to point out the obvious when it came to the way they acted around one another.

 

She huffed a short laugh and shook her head at him while he corked the bottle again. He sighed as he sat the pitcher down on the counter and shook his head in dismay, “You’re the only one who appreciates my waffles. Call it me fishing for compliments. Besides, you’ve nearly run Rosemary out of stock, buying half-dozen cases of her cupcakes every day. Should I be offended-  _do you like her sweets better than mine_?” He peeled another round of giggles out of her at his mocked offense at even the idea. His hand pressed against his chest like he was wounded.

 

When he tugged on her plate like he threatened to take it from her, Audrey redoubled her grip on the warm breakfast and shared one of his soft smiles with him as she pulled it closer to her chest, “Well, I couldn’t be selfish and ask for you to make waffles for me every morning, could I? You have so many things that you do in the morning, I wouldn’t want to make anyone else jealous. Rosemary keeps a batch of sprinkle-covered cupcakes out just for me anyway, I think she appreciates my daily patronage.”

 

He flipped another waffle over onto a new empty plate with a skilled grace and scraped away some of the dribbled splatters on the waffle iron with the edge of his fork. His response came with a little snort, “Please, make them jealous. Inflate my ego and ask for some of my delicious, coveted waffles. If you say please I might just do it.” He waggled his fork at her like a grandmother might shake her finger at a grandchild who didn't look like they were eating enough. She ducked her head again to hide her smile and looked at the beautiful bounty of crisp, sweet cakes still sitting in her hands.

 

With a little adjusting, Audrey managed to cut into a syrup-soaked edge and raised it to her lips. The smell left her feeling almost bittersweet with longing and hope. She hoped that when she left, she would be able to remember this smell. Remember the days she spent with Duke on the Cape Rouge and how he would howl music off key in her car when they had to drive across town for a case he absolutely had to tag along for. She chewed slowly and sighed contentedly as she licked the tines of her fork clean afterward, her memories fading like smoke into the background. “You should offer breakfast here someday, Duke. These taste like coming home,” She praised, her smile falling a little somberly as she speared another wedge on her fork.

 

His fingers edged into her view, and she looked up when she felt him wiping away what was probably a little streak of maple on the edge of her cheek. How had that even happened- how did he even see it? “Such high praises,” His voice was lower, softer. It twisted something in her chest and small flashes of Colorado colored her memory, wiping away the vivid, embarrassing whispers of what remained when he belted out some terrible rendition of Whitney Houston to her. “I don’t make waffles for just anyone, you know. I can’t just have Rosemary come here and steal my secret recipe, or my best tenant. I’m afraid you’re the only one who is allowed to enjoy the days I make breakfast here.”

 

She flicked her tongue out to chase the hint of sweetness clinging to her lips, and his eyes cut down to watch for all of a jiffy of a second. His curled fingers lingered against her cool cheek and made her even more acutely aware of the chill in the bar. Her toes clenched. She turned her face into his hand and sought out the rough callouses on the width of his palm, sweet and warm scented, lightly dusted with leftover flour… rough but so very gentle, “Well, I guess I better take advantage of that then, shouldn’t I?”

 

His fingers unfurled and cradled around her jaw, spread over such a vast amount of space. Rough fingertips warmed her ear, stroked against her smooth cheekbone. Audrey could smell the saltwater that clung to him, mixed with syrup and batter and incents- smoky, salty and sweet. “You definitely should.” His voice left something inside of her, asking her to make him speak again.

 

“Do you want to make breakfast for me, Duke?” She asked, almost feeling shy that she was going so far as to ask for waffles from him personally for the next twelve days she still had in Haven. It was hard to look at him, almost predicting the gentle rejection he had every right to give her after the stunt she pulled at the motel. His fingers encouraged her to turn her head back toward him again before he was leaning close, pressing his forehead sweetly against her own.

 

“I would be happy to, Audrey.”

 

He was just so warm. Her eyes fluttered closed as she forgot about the breakfast still in her grasp. Duke tasted like the sea; wild and alive, salty and just dangerous enough to run a thrill through her. He tasted like maple syrup and port and just- he was everything she had been hoping for ever since little Audrey Parker realized what love and romance and passion should and could be. It made her chest ache, both for waiting for so long to give herself this and for the fact that finally- finally she was doing this.

 

Their lips pressed against each other, gentle and unsure for all of a breath before it was like Colorado all over again. Strong and heated, demanding in a way that they both could agree and give whatever the other wanted without qualms. He pushed her throw off of her shoulders, and she rushed to put her plate down before the alarming smell of smoke reached them. They jerked apart and turned to the quickly charring waffle Duke had been making earlier, scorched black and threatening to turn ash into something more deadly.

 

Duke snatched the fork up and pulled it off onto a different plate, cussing as he fumbled for the knob on the waffle iron to turn it off, going so far as to jerk the plug from the wall for good measure. Audrey couldn’t help but laugh at him, eyes twinkling in mirth as he pushed his hands back through his hair with a huge sigh of relief. His brown eyes met her blue-grey gaze and crinkled in amusement as he came back to her, filling the slight space between her knees as he rested his hips against the bar, “I’m glad you’re not worried about this old shack burning to the ground, Officer Parker,” He always used her title to tease her in some way, or show her what he was really thinking about when he was upset. Officer Audrey Parker was always supposed to help people- but Audrey, Audrey was just supposed to be his. Whatever he wanted Audrey to be, she was.

 

His hair fell back into his face and this time, she didn’t resist reaching out to push it out of his eyes. She combed her fingers through it, carded the shorter bangs back and let her blunt nails carve rows through his low, loose ponytail. Her lips curled a little more as she tilted her head, watching as his eyes drooped, as he swallowed whatever words he was going to spout off next, “I’m off duty right now, Mr. Crocker,” She teased right back, low and fond, “I know that this ‘shack’ and everything- everyone- inside it is in perfectly capable hands. I trust you to do what is right.”

 

“Then I guess I better live up to your expectations and take care of you.”

 

"I guess so."


End file.
